Circle Winding
by Ozone
Summary: The chronicles of the four siblings of the Winding Circle Series and how their lives have been turned.


NOTE: Bethany is the only character in this chapter that belongs to me, all others, as well as the world they inhabit, is full property of Tamora Pierce. If I owned any of these, I'd be spending this time publishing my story. Thank you for not stealing anything.

He could just about make out the shapes inside the lights. There were, unsurprisingly, three of them. One a reddish orange that shone like worked iron, one the calm beige of un-dyed wool, and the final one was the shifting blue of an autumn day. They all twisted and shimmered, throwing slivers of color into the other two.  
Briar Moss, plant mage from the Winding Circle Temple in Emelan, sat up in his bed with a sigh. After two years traveling the world with his teacher Rosethorn, he was going home. From halfway around the world, he was coming home. It would only be a matter of days and Briar would be reunited with his foster family.  
The thin seventeen-year-old rubbed a hand over his face and cast a sidelong glance at the sleeping forms of his teacher and his student. They snored on, forming a counterpoint almost perfectly. Obviously they had no problem with anxiety as they returned to, or in Evvy's case approached for the first time, the Winding Circle Temple. Briar shook his head again to clear his mind and cast his hands about, questing for his discarded shirt. The wagon seemed to choose the exact moment his balance was perched over the edge of the hammock to give a violent lurch to the side, throwing him forcefully into the wooden floor. Sitting back up with a murmured curse about traveling with a merchant caravan, Briar felt the wagon come to a slow and ponderous stop. 'Must be a broken wheel' he thought to himself. After three weeks of traveling on this gods cursed contraption had shown him how often they broke down for no reason at all. The jolt had apparently not disturbed Rosethorn or Evvy, both still snoring lightly in their hammocks. Briar finally found his shirt and pulled it over his head, stepping out into the lightening day. Dawn was creeping over the horizon and the entire train had stopped, a man standing up in the driving seat of his wagon, peering at the Wagonmaster at the caravan's head. Everyone he could see seemed to be unsure of why exactly the train had stopped, which was more than likely a bad omen. Briar meandered up to one of the merchants standing outside a cart and stuck his hands into the pockets of his breeches, trying to appear nonchalant.  
"What happened up there?" he called out softly, still approaching. A waved hand was the only response, and Briar found it rather rude. Finally the merchant turned, and Briar found himself staring into the vividly green eyes of a girl about his own age, copper colored hair hastily hidden under a dilapidated cap. The rest of her clothing was almost as bad, patched and stitched haphazardly, some spots worn completely threadbare. Briar winced to think about what his foster sister Sandry, who's magic bound her to thread, would say to see anyone dressed so poorly.  
"They hit a sinkhole. It happens a lot up in these parts." She spoke slowly and carefully, a slight lisp laying her country birth open for the listener. "I'm surprised no one thought to check before plowing on through it." She snorted in scorn and suddenly glanced back at Briar, still leaning against the wagon. "Who are you anyway?" she peered at him, leaning in a bit closer to meet his blue green eyes directly.  
"Briar Moss." He answered, wishing she would move back a bit to give him some room to breath. At hearing his name the girl gave another derisive snort.  
"Ah, you one of them mages then? Them that's going to the Temples?" She turned her back to him without waiting for an answer, tugging the cap lower over her ears. "Why didn't you see the sinkhole coming?" Briar was of two minds, one wanting to go back to sleep now that he knew what had happened to stop the caravan, and one desiring to talk to this girl for some reason.  
Briar chose the latter and sat on the back-board of the wagon, trying to get comfortable.  
"Well, my magic is bound to plants. What the earth does, it does independently of me." He explained thoughtfully, intrigued by the girl's manner. "Now, I'm surprised my student Evvy didn't notice anything going on." Seeing the confused, or perhaps scornful, expression shot at him Briar explained. "She's a rock mage." The merchant girl nodded and gave him a wry smile.  
"Well, she wouldn't have known either then. Sinks ain't got nothing to do with rock. It's a bubble under the ground giving way." She sighed and sat next to Briar on the board, closing her eyes and pulling the ancient cap off her head. Her coppery hair tumbled out, sticking at odd angles and hanging to her shoulders, reminding him prominently of his foster sister Tris. "Well, we're gonna be here a while if they fell all the way in." Opening one eye to glance at Briar she extended a hand. "I'm Bethany. Just Bethany" She added bitterly. Briar took her hand, glad to have a name at least. "Nice to talk with you, mage." She stood, sweeping the cap back on, and sauntered off up the caravan, being completely ignored by the people sweeping forward to get the lead wagon out of the sink hole. About twenty yards away she turned and grinned at him playfully, giving an overly elaborate bow.  
"I'll be seeing you later, Briar Moss." She continued slowly up between the wagons, disappearing around the bend, leaving Briar torn between confusion and amusement.


End file.
